


More-Than-Jump Scare

by heartsdesire456



Series: 13 Fics of Halloween [6]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comedy, M/M, halloween fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 05:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5079658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis is determined to scare Porthos.... it does not go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More-Than-Jump Scare

**Author's Note:**

> I'm 2 days behind because I went away for the weekend. BUT I'M GONNA CATCH UP!!!

Porthos sat in the chair, head hanging in shame. Athos looked between the picture he made, the picture Aramis made laying in the hospital bed with a bandage wrapped across his forehead, and D’Artagnan, who was just leaning against the wall biting back laughter. It all was a bit ridiculous. He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Alright. Tell me once more what _exactly_ happened.”

Porthos whimpered, putting his hands over his eyes. “I didn’t _mean to_ ,” he stressed.

D’Artagnan finally cracked and burst into laughter, nearly falling over with the force of it.

~

**Six hours earlier**

Aramis was entirely frustrated with himself. He knew he had to be missing something. There had to be SOMETHING in the world that could scare Porthos. 

He had tried loud bangs:

_Aramis snuck up behind Porthos, two pots in his hands, and after checking to make sure Porthos was nearly asleep, dozing off in front of the TV watching some boring movie, he held them up, arms far apart, and brought them together in a loud crash!_

_…. However, Porthos simply let out a snort and turned to look at him over the top of the chair. “Was that necessary?” he asked, and Aramis turned and left in a huff._

He had tried a cardboard cutout of a Weeping Angel just outside the shower:

_Aramis made sure the cutout was positioned just right and then backed down the hall a few steps and shouted, “Porthos come quick!”_

_He heard the shower curtain rings clattering as the shower curtain was ripped open, but instead of scream, he just heard Porthos chuckle. “What on earth are you up to, Aramis?” he called, and Aramis groaned when he heard the rattling rings that let him know Porthos had simply gotten back into the shower._

He had even gotten desperate and pretended to be dead:

_Aramis heard the door open and shut and Porthos’s footsteps coming towards the kitchen and he took a deep breath, and then held it, so that his chest wouldn’t be moving when Porthos found him lying on the kitchen floor, surrounded by a pool of red, with a kitchen knife balanced in the drain tray just so it looked as if he’d fallen on it chest first._

_However, when Porthos came in, he stopped fast, seeming like he was about to panic, only he then gave a soft huff. “If the smell of that sauce doesn’t come out of the wood floors, I’m seriously going to be angry at you, Aramis.”_

_Aramis sat up with a glare. “Oi, I could have been DEAD!”_

_Porthos gave him a flat look. “I’m a trainer at a gym, Aramis. I know what blood looks like in real life,” he said simply and Aramis grumbled._

Aramis had decided to give up when they happened to find a film to watch one night, in the lead up to Halloween, and he noticed while watching that Porthos flinched every time the creepy children on the film giggled or spoke. At one point, Porthos even turned his head to hide his eyes in Aramis’s shoulder at one point.

And this gave him an idea.

He planned it out perfectly. He waited until Porthos had gotten up for his early morning run, before dawn broke, so that it would still be dark, and after he left to go brush his teeth, Aramis jumped out of their bed and rushed on quiet feet to the kitchen. He hunkered down behind the kitchen counter and waited for Porthos to come fill up his water bottle with more patience than he would have ever normally had at such an hour. 

When Porthos came and opened the refrigerator door, Aramis slowly stood and crept up to it, staying out of Porthos’s sight. He then did what he had been practicing for house the night before…

He giggled like a small child right beside Porthos.

He didn’t even have time to register that this had been a poor decision because, within a second, Porthos slammed the door shut with a yelp of fear and _instantly_ swung with his full force to punch Aramis right in the face.

Aramis couldn’t tell you what actually knocked him out, the fist between the eyes or the way his forehead collided with the counter’s edge when he was knocked off his feet from the force of the punch.

~

Athos’s lips twitched in spite of himself and he looked at Porthos. “So. You realize they still think you’re abusive,” he said, and Porthos gave him a glare. “What? I know you’re not. Still, they think so.”

Aramis tutted. “Porthos would never hurt me-“

“I _knocked you out_ ,” Porthos interrupted, giving him a wide-eyed, pained look. He reached out and grabbed Aramis’s hand. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he said for the hundredth time.

“It wasn’t you,” Aramis argued. “The counter knocked me out.”

“I punched you,” Porthos said weakly.

Aramis chuckled. “Yes, but there is one thing far more important.”

“Oh yeah?” Porthos asked, and Aramis smirked.

“I still got you in the end after all.”


End file.
